


Discord

by FictionalPerson



Series: Six Stages of a Relationship [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fights, Marriage, Parenthood, Past Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Past Relationship(s), Relationship Problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-30 05:04:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionalPerson/pseuds/FictionalPerson
Summary: The second part of Six Stages of a Relationship: Discord.Clary and Simon, years later, are married but are having problems. With one little girl, marriage turned out to be harder for Clary than she expected . . .





	Discord

About ten years later, Simon and Clary were married, with a four-year-old child. Marriage was a lot more than she thought it was - not in a positive way. Simon was working all the time as a Publisher - mostly of comic books. 

 

He wasn't home a lot, and when he was, he was tired. Tonight, however, Clary was going to woo him. She had faith that they could bring back the spark that they once had - that she had had with Jace. 

 

She's making Salmon, something that they never had; money is tight. She forgets that Simon hates Salmon. 

 

When he gets home, he calls out, "Honey, Melody, I'm home." 

 

Clary strides out of the kitchen, happy to see her husband. It was a friday night; they could tonight and tommorow to be together. She smiles at him, raising an eyebrow at his soken attire. 

 

"I told you it was going to rain; told you you should have brought an umbrella."

 

He looks at her smiling, though it doesn't reach his eyes. "Yes, yes. You're always right - I should always listen to you." 

 

He swoops into kiss her cheek. She leans against the door frame, her arms crossed over her chest as he walks farther into the hallway, waiting for Melody to peek out and run to him; she does. 

 

"Daddy," she yells, running to him, her arms extended outwards, reaching for him. 

 

He kneels down, waiting to catch her and hold her. "Pumpkin!" 

 

Clary watches, silentily, as they embrace, a smile playing on her lips. 

 

Simon plants kissed all across his daughter's face, causing giggiles to erupt from her mouth. 

 

"What are you doing up?" He growls lightly, his eyes narrowing playfully. 

 

"She isn't," Clary buts in. She points at thier daughter, admonishing her. "She is supposed to be in bed, asleep." 

 

Melody looks down, ashamed and emmbarrsed. "I know . . . I just wanted to say good night to daddy." 

 

Clary smiled at her daughter. "I know. And know that you did that" - she points to down the hallway, to where her room was - "you go to bed." 

 

Simon put the girl down, and she scrambled to her room. They both looked after her, silelntily, until Clary said, "I made dinner."

 

He looked at her, bored. "What is it? Why didn't you just heat something up?"

 

She sighed, planting her hands on her hips. "Because I wanted to do something special!" She took his hand, and dragged him to the kitchen, where a small table was set up. He pulled out a chair, taking a seat, waiting.

 

"What is it?" He looked at her. "It smells like fish . . ." He looked at her skeptically. "Is it fish?" 

 

She nods. "Don't worry - it's fishsticks." 

 

He nods, sighing, looking back at his plate. "So much for a special dinner," he grumbles. 

 

She ignores the remark, but the anger and frusteraition build up. She turns off the stove, delicatley placing the fish on the plates, and brought it over to the table, setting it in front of Simon

 

He looks down, disgust etched on his face. "You told me fishsticks . . ." 

 

Despite his resentful words, she smils and says jokingly, "I needed a way to get you to stay." She grins,thought it doesnt meet her eyes. She wonders if he notices. He doesn't seem to. 

 

They eat in silent - only the sound of knives screeching against the plate and the sound of chewing surrounding them. "So . . ." Clary starts, but Simon can't hlp but ask, "How much did this Salmon cost?" 

 

Clary sets down her fork, looks up at the cealing, and swallows. She gives a tight lipped smile, gets up, and walks to a drawer, searching. "What are you looking for?" 

 

"The damn reciept," she shouts, her hands still carding through the papers. She turns to him once finding the reciept. "Here," she says, shoving it into his hands, confused. 

 

He reads it and looks up at her, accusingly and with annoyance. "Really? Two-seventy-five for Salmon? When Fishsticks are so much less." 

 

She shakes her, at her limit with her husband. "It's too expesive, you say? Well, let's just return it! Get those two-seventy-five, incase God-forbid, we run out of Fishticks!" 

 

She pulls out a Ziploc bag and scrapes the fish into the bag with a fork - first her plate, then his. 

 

She walks out of the room, going for the coat-rack. She grabs her coat, stuffing the reciept into her coat. Simon follows her. 

"Where are you going?" He looks at her, bewildered. 

 

"To return it!" 

 

"Clary," he says gently. "They won't take it back . . ." 

 

"We'll see," she says before opening the front door and stepping out into the cold, foggy night. 

* * *

Later that night, Clary comes back - the bag of fish in her hand. He was washing the dishes, waiting for her to come home - after she fails miserably. 

 

When he sees the disappointed look on her face, he sighs and said, "I told you they wouldn't take it back." 

 

She glares ay him. "Shut up," she tells him, walking past him and shoving the fish into his chest. 

 

Later that night, when they are both in bed, Simon turns over and kisses her shoulders and the back of her neck. Shes facing away from him. "Look," he sighs into her hair. "I'm sorry, okay?" 

 

She doesn't move. 

 

"I should have been grateful for the dinner, instead of complaining. I'm sorry." He kisses her neck again. "I love you," he murmers into her ear. At that, her body loosens and she turns over to face him. She has a small smile on her face. 

 

"Thank you." She kisses his lips. "I love you, too." She crawls on top of him, kissing him lazily, smiling. She straddles his hips, leaning over his chest. The scene reminds him of their first night together - the night they met. Her red hair falls around them, like a waterfall, blocking everything out. He stares into her eyes, and he knows; he loves her. 

 

Clary kisses him again, but more passionately. Her hands slides down his chest, and to his pants. She pulls them down, along with his boxers. She slides her underwear off, a smile on her face, her eyes never leaving his. And soon, he fills her, and shes throwing her head back, moaning, as she rocks her body against his eyes. 

 

And when they are both close, her moans becoming louder and louder, and his breath coming quicker until they are pants, she slows down, collapsing onto his chest her head buried into his shoulder, breathing heavily. He rubs her back, soothing her. Soon, they fall asleep in that position. 

* * *

 

 They woke up to coughing from the room next to theirs. 

 

Melody. 

 

Clary got up first, albiet slowly, and started to ready herself for the day.

 

Just as she finished brushing her red hair, Simon woke up, blinking away sleep. "Clary," he said, unsure of where she was. 

 

She snorted. "Good morning, Simon." 

 

"Hey -" Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the loud and abrupt sounds of Melody coughing. "Is she sick?" 

 

Clary out the brush down. "I don't know. I'm going to take her temperature now." 

 

He nodded. "Do it now. I want to know how well she is before I go out with the guys." 

 

She sighed. "Really?" She shook her head. 

 

"What?" 

 

"You're going to go out when Melody is sick?" She looked out the window. 

 

"Yeah, why not?" 

 

She shook her head, biting her lip, her eyebrows raised. She glances at him and gives in. She sighs, "fine. Go - have fun." 

 

She turns to leave the room and check on Melody, but she turns back, a gleam in her eye. "Invite Jace - over for lunch, would ya'?" 

 

She sets out to leave the room, but halts when she hears bitter chuckling. "What," she asks, an eyebrow raised, her head cocked to the side. Hes sitting up by his elbows, chaking his head. 

 

"Why is it always Jace?" 

 

"Excuse me?" 

 

"You never invite over anyone over - except Jace. Why is that?" 

 

She looks at him, opens her mouth, and then shuts it, opening it and shutting it again- speechless, that's what she is. She sighs and her mouth twitches up on the side a little, something Simon notices. "He is lonely, lives down the street, why not? He is your friend, isn't he?"

 

Simon throws the covers off in a fit of rage. "You shouldn't care if he is lonely," he shouts. He storms over to her. "You shouldn't care about the fact that he lives down the street." He pauses, cocking his head to side, and narrows his brown eyes at her. "Why do you care?"

 

She shakes her head, brushing her hands together. "I am not doing this - not fighting" - her voice lowers to a whisper - "not when Melody is in the other room, sick." 

 

She turns around and walks to her daughter's room, throwing their bedroom door closed. 

* * *

 When a child falls ill, or gets injured, or something bad, it can only lead to more fighting between couples; and Simon and Clary were no different. 

 

The cold Melody had wasn't really a cold - it was pneumonia. 

 

The pneumonia she got was very severe, lasting a few months. The antibiotics didn't get much of a response, and sooner rather than later that the possibility of death was very high. 

 

When Clary first heard the news, she gasps, not quite grasping the information (even though she sees situations as such every day). Simon wraps his arms around Clary, kissing her hair, tears prickling his eyes. Clary cries, shaking her head, muttering, "not my baby - she can't die - she won't." She continues to refuse, even pulling away from Simon - in every way, leaving them alone, scared, and hurt. 

 

 

 


End file.
